


The Beast Within

by Aurum_Auri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Consentacles, Double Penetration, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Smut, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, spooky porn, sporn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum_Auri/pseuds/Aurum_Auri
Summary: Victor and Yuuri have returned to St. Petersburg, but Yuuri isn't quite as over his demonic possession as he thinks. A continuation of Yuri on Festival.





	The Beast Within

**Author's Note:**

> Tentacles are totally spooky, right?

Sometimes Yuuri still had dreams about the demonic possession.

The festival had been weeks ago, but it was still as fresh in his mind as it had been the night it had happened. He remembered being jealous, the overwhelming urge to destroy and claim and ravage.

He would have called them nightmares. They certainly would have qualified. He must have been a sight to see that night, his eyes going blank and black and empty, his mind lost to the demon, and a churning mass of black tentacles erupting from his back. It must have been terrifying.

But the dreams left behind weren't that scary. Not really, not to Yuuri. Mostly, he looked back on them with love, the same thing that had saved him. The dreams were becoming a bit of normalcy almost. He didn't have more than one a week or so, and he barely remembered them upon waking. It seemed normal enough anymore. They were likely just a lingering bit of trauma left over from the aftermath of becoming a squid monster.

Still, the dreams had one curious effect: making the possession feel that much more unreal and dreamlike. It was ridiculous from the start. There was no plausible way for him to become a hentai tentacle monster out of jealously. But Yuuri supposed, regardless of the plausibility, despite his steady stream of denials, the fact remained that it had probably happened.

The demon had possessed him, and he and Victor had driven it out with the power of their love. It was gone, but the lingering effects remained like scars beneath his skin. A change of scenery had been good for them both.

They were back in St. Petersburg for now, enjoying the reprieve from the miserable heat of Hasetsu’s sweltering summers. Days at the rink flowed into nights in each other's arms. They were happy. For a while, things were perfect.

And then Sergei arrived at the rink.

He was a couples skater and the partner of another new skater, the comparatively more reclusive Ekaterina. Yuuri didn't often notice many of the other skaters. He socialized occasionally with the other men’s singles skaters, usually Georgi and Yurio, and he was on good terms with Mila. But Sergei stuck out, and not in a good way.

Yuuri watched from across the rink with narrowed eyes. Victor was laughing and talking. Yuuri didn't understand why they'd hit it off so well, but all it had taken was one mention of one of Victor’s favorite novels and suddenly they were chatting like old friends about their favorite books.

Normally this wouldn't have bothered Yuuri. Victor was always friendly in public. He smiled readily for fans and paparazzi. But Yuuri couldn't help but watch with a little glare as Victor chatted. It was fine. Yuuri just wondered why Victor wasn’t smiling sideways at Yuuri and flashing his ring around. Victor always made small, subtle hand gestures, little flutters of his fingers that drew attention to their matching rings and set his gold band sparkling in the light. It made Yuuri quietly happy to see.

Victor was _his,_ just as he was Victor’s.

Sergei smiled and they traded phones, possibly adding phone numbers.

Yuuri ground his teeth. It was fine. Victor was more than welcome to have other friends. Yuuri never expected to be the only thing in Victor’s life, and he wasn't. So Yuuri skated away, restarting his warm up from the beginning.

It bothered him all day, and it was still on his mind when they got home, driving him crazy. They'd barely stepped inside the apartment before Yuuri had Victor pressed to the back of the front door, licking his way into Victor’s mouth, kissing him desperately. Victor laughed into the kiss, cradling Yuuri’s head in his fingers.

“Feeling a little frisky, love?” Victor asked. He rocked against Yuuri with an impish smile.

Yuuri groaned. He grabbed Victor’s collar and dragged him to the bedroom. Yuuri could worry about it later.

* * *

Later ended up being in the afterglow of a round of amazing sex, his ass feeling deliciously abused and his body still leaking Victor’s release.

Yuuri kissed Victor’s neck with gentle presses of his lips. Victor’s hands made slow circles over his back. Everything was fine. Everything was perfect. No reason to think of Sergei chatting up his fiancé. Yuuri glowered and gave Victor a soft bite, dragging his tongue over the mark.

“Yuuuuuriiii,” Victor cooed. Yuuri sucked at the spot, making Victor tense beneath him, a little pleasured gasp escaping from Victor’s lips. “Aaah, Yuuri. What's gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri said quickly. He buried his face in Victor’s neck. “Everything is fine.”

“Really?” Victor hummed. “Yuuri, you don't usually leave hickeys so high on my neck. And you've been sulking all day.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Yuuri said.

Victor stroked his fingers over Yuuri’s scalp, combing through the dark hair with gentle touches. Yuuri hummed and leaned into the touch.

“Is it Sergei?” Victor asked lightly. Yuuri might have stiffened. “Yuuuri, are you jealous?”

“No- well,” Yuuri broke off. “Maybe… just a little. I'm sorry, Victor.”

Victor laughed. He squeezed Yuuri tight to his chest and then hauled him up, pulling him into a kiss.

“What's there to be sorry for?” Victor said. Yuuri stared, a little surprised, and Victor laughed. “You're so cute, Yuuri. Don't you know I can't take my eyes off you?”

Yuuri harrumphed quietly.

“Come on, it's late, we’ll worry about it later,” Victor cooed, kissing Yuuri until he went pliant beneath him, and pulled the covers up over them.

* * *

Sergei and Victor were talking again the next day. They were rinkside as Yuuri was running through his program components, Victor overseeing each of the spins and step sequences that made up his short program.

Things were going better today. Yuuri wasn't bothered by the sight of Victor and Sergei talking. Because honestly, Yuuri trusted Victor. He trusted him completely. And he knew better than anyone that Victor couldn't take his eyes off him.

And that was when Yuuri noticed it. Sergei was flirting.

Victor’s ring was under his leather gloves, so even when Victor waved his hands around his head, there was no light glittering off the gold. Worse, Yuuri had only half of Victor’s attention, a fraction. Sergei had claimed the rest of it, leaning against the side of the rink, hips tilted out in a way that showed off his less than impressive ass. It wasn't nearly as good as Yuuri’s. Yuuri’s lips twitched, and he came to a sharp stop on the ice, watching.

Victor smiled widely at Sergei, his head tilting away from the ice. Just like that, his undivided attention was on the interloper.

Yurio launched himself into a beautiful salchow at the other end of the rink, reminding Yuuri of all the valuable practice time he was losing. Victor wasn't even watching him.

Yuuri trusted Victor. He didn't trust Sergei.

Yuuri made up his mind quickly. He launched himself forward, skating right up to the edge of the rink. He grabbed the collar of Victor’s jacket and pulled his fiancé in for a kiss. Victor was frozen in surprise at first, his mouth hard and unyielding, his shoulders set even as Yuuri slid his fingers up Victor’s biceps. He crossed his arms around Victor’s neck.

And then Victor melted. His body went lax, and the kiss grew heated, smoking hot, open- mouthed and passionate. Yuuri belonged to Victor, and he would show Sergei exactly who Victor belonged to, too.

“Bleh,” Yurio mimed retching on the ice. “You two are disgusting. Go somewhere else if you're going to do that.” Yakov was shouting in the background as well, screaming admonishments to get his skaters back on the ice and focused.

Yuuri drew back. His cheeks were hot and flushing from embarrassment. It had been impulsive and crazy, but the stunned, pleased look on Victor’s face meant Yuuri didn't regret it in the least. Sergei was blinking in surprise. Yuuri pecked his lips against the hickey high on Victor’s neck, the one too visible to cover with shirts or jackets. Yuuri smiled and glanced away, cheeks hot. “Victor, let's skate last season’s exhibition piece.”

Yuuri had never seen Victor hit the ice quicker.

Yuuri shot a last, lingering glare at Sergei over his shoulder, before grinning. This round belonged to him.

* * *

“Let's eat out,” Victor said as they headed home. “We haven't gone out for dinner in a while, have we?”

Yuuri smiled. They showered and dressed and went to a restaurant Victor promised would let them eat well and stay on their diet: a little seafood place that straddled the line of casual and elegant, with good food cooked right. Yuuri ordered some Russian fish dish he couldn't pronounce, but which Victor assured him was delicious, and Victor had the squid.

They chatted about program concepts and costume ideas until it arrived. Victor eyed his plate with a frown, flushing as he looked at the mess of tentacles coiled on the pile of vegetation. “Oh,” Victor said. Yuuri gave him a curious look, but Victor waved it away, his cheeks pinking. “Ah, don't worry about it. Would you like a bite?”

Yuuri smiled and shook his head. “I'm good. I think I've had enough tentacles for the rest of my life,” Yuuri laughed.

Victor choked on his dinner and nodded, pounding his chest and coughing. “R-right.”

Yuuri studied Victor’s blushing face. “Victor, is everything alright with you? You're acting really weird.”

Victor cleared his throat and waved it away. “Don't worry about it,” he murmured. He choked down another bite of his dinner. The blush crept further down his neck as he ate, the fresh squid tentacles sliding past his lips and barely chewed before he swallowed.

Victor wriggled in his seat. Dinner stayed just as awkward the rest of the night. Yuuri picked at his meal and Victor seemed unable to finish his. He almost looked aroused, but that was a ridiculous thought.

* * *

That night, as they were sitting next to each other on the couch, Yuuri’s legs sprawled over Victor’s lap, Victor glanced up from the book he'd been reading. “Hmm. Yuuri, were you jealous again today?”

“No,” Yuuri said indignantly. He flushed and glanced down at his phone. “Maybe I… just wanted to kiss you.” Yuuri looked to his ring with a petty frown. He gave it a few short twists.

Victor laughed. “Oh Yuuri. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking at dinner, the last time you got this jealous, things took a very interesting turn.”

“It was a fever dream or something,” Yuuri said dismissively. “I'm still not convinced it actually happened.”

Victor hummed, his hand sliding up along Yuuri’s thigh. His touch was just slow enough to hold a suggestive promise. “Don't forget though,” Victor murmured. “Dream or not, we conquered that demon with love. Our love.” Victor pressed a sweet kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. Instead of pulling away, his lips moved down a fraction, meeting each of Yuuri’s closed eyelids, then the tip of his nose, and each cheek before finally pressing softly against Yuuri’s lips, so lightly it was barely more than a brief brush of skin.

In spite of himself, Yuuri found he was smiling.

“You're cute when you're jealous,” Victor said.

Yuuri made a quiet scoffing sound. “It isn't cute.”

“A little jealousy isn't necessarily a bad thing. It makes me feel very loved, to be honest,” Victor said. He cradled Yuuri’s face and pressed another kiss to his lips, another brief peck. Yuuri chased another, and Victor pulled away, smiling impishly. “How much do you love me, Yuuri?” Victor teased.

Yuuri hauled himself upright, pinning Victor against the back of the couch. He set the book aside, sweeping his hair back from his face as he did so. “How about I show you?” Yuuri said. He smirked down at his beautiful fiance.

Victor looked momentarily surprised before chuckling. “My, Yuuri, you've been hungry lately haven't you?” he asked. Yuuri narrowed his eyes in answer, straddling Victor’s lap.

He shed his shirt and tossed it behind him, cocking his head. Victor grinned back up, freeing himself just enough to lose his own shirt. As soon as it had cleared his head, Yuuri was on him, kissing him feverishly, continuing what they had started at the rink that morning.

Yuuri ground his hips into Victor's, rubbing together to create a delicious friction between them. The kiss became something more, heavy petting, hands stroking up and down the length of one another’s bodies, feeling out the softness of their skin, the hard planes of muscle.

Victor grabbed hold of Yuuri’s hips, tugging at the sweatpants, and Yuuri fumbled for the zip of Victor’s jeans in answer, pulling off articles of clothing and leaving nothing but kisses in their wake.

They ended up tangled together on the couch, Yuuri digging the lube out from between the couch cushions and quickly stretching Victor out before sliding in, fucking him hard and fast the way Victor loved.

Victor’s breathy cries pitched up, stuttering on each thrust as his body rocked into the back of the chair. He was rutting against the leather, trapped and squirming between it and Yuuri’s hard cock filling him, his arms thrown over the top and his knees spread and digging into the cushions.

Yuuri’s fingers clutched at Victor’s hips and he groaned as Victor cried out, shaking and clenching around him as he suddenly came. Yuuri rocked a few more times, thrusting lazily in until he felt his own release building inside him, and he bowed over Victor’s back, pushing in deep as he came, flooding Victor’s insides with his come. They caught their breath like that, Yuuri buried fully inside, head resting against Victor’s back, and Victor limp beneath him.

They groaned as they separated, rolling to the side to avoid the mess and cuddle naked in each other’s arms.

Yuuri eyed the white stains. At least leather was easier to clean than fabric. He'd get a washcloth in a minute.

He bit his lip, watching Victor smile tiredly at him. “That time… when I got jealous. Back in Hasetsu. Did it bother you? Um. When I was possessed? You don't… ah… think it's weird?”

Victor gave a sleepy chuckle. “I do think it's a little unusual. But no, I thought you were cute. You're always precious to me, my love.”

“But it's weird,” Yuuri insisted.

“It isn't,” Victor said, shaking his head. “And if you ever become a tentacle monster again, I promise I'd still love you.” They kissed, and as they pulled apart once more, Yuuri noticed a curious blush on Victor’s cheeks, a bit like the one he'd had at dinner.

* * *

Sergei was at it again the next day, flirting freely and joyfully. And even though Victor had limped a little walking in, wearing a fresh bruise on his collarbone that matched one on Yuuri’s, Victor still smiled and laughed along with him.

It was getting on Yuuri’s last nerve. It should have been obvious that Victor was taken. Sergei was too persistent and just couldn't seem to get the message. And worse, all those little gestures Victor made that usually drew attention to his ring were for nothing. His gloves made it impossible to see.

Yuuri tried to focus. He really did. But every time he heard Sergei and Victor laugh, his attention shattered and his jumps left him sprawling on the ice.

Victor didn't even scold him for having his mind elsewhere. When Yuuri looked up, Victor wasn't even watching. Yuuri skated up to them.

“Oh, Yuuri, Sergei and I were talking, and I don't think you two have been properly introduced. Sergei, meet Yuuri, Yuuri, Sergei. Sergei has a dog, see!” Victor said excitedly, turning Sergei’s phone to face Yuuri. There was a dog pictured there, a mutt with a splotchy brown coat about the size of a beagle. Victor beamed at Yuuri. “Isn’t he a cutie?”

Yuuri had a mutinous moment of wondering if Victor was referring to Sergei or to Sergei’s dog, but he knew it was just the jealousy. Yuuri forced himself to smile and wave. He couldn’t let it bother him. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Victor, we should work on the free program’s step sequence we were discussing last night.”

“Oh, right, of course!” Sergei said, smiling at Yuuri. “I'll let you to get back to practice.” He bumped shoulders with Victor, looking far too friendly for Yuuri’s liking. Sergei left for his own practice at the other end of the rink, and Yuuri found himself irritable, but with Victor’s full attention.

“Something wrong, love?” Victor asked, and Yuuri immediately softened.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Yuuri said.

The truth was that it wasn’t nothing, and Yuuri knew it. Not when his jealousy was threatening to boil over right then and there. And again, not when it came to be evening and they were gathered in the kitchen, puttering around the stove to make dinner together.

“Yuuri, Sergei sent a picture of Bolshoi!” Victor was passing over his phone, showing off an image of a smiling Sergei cuddling the brown mutt. Yuuri tried desperately not to let it get to him. “Very nice,” he said, setting the phone on the table. Victor was rarely this happy with people who weren’t in their close skating family, and having Sergei invade like this was throwing Yuuri off.

But what if Victor was happy like this? What if he was unhappy with Yuuri? What if he liked Sergei’s salchow better than he liked Yuuri’s? It was so petty and juvenile, Yuuri knew that. But he couldn’t help but wonder.

Victor sidled away to the bathroom, leaving Yuuri to his own guilt while he finished plating dinner on the table. It was possible he was taking this too far.

Maybe Sergei just wanted some friends at the rink. Yes, Victor had been sexualized by the media for years, called a playboy and a flirt when he was really no such thing, but that image was dying. There was no way it could survive with Victor’s clear and very public adoration of Yuuri. Maybe Sergei realized Victor was every bit as sweet and wonderful as Yuuri knew Victor was.

Victor’s phone screen lit up with a new text from its spot on the table. Yuuri wasn’t trying to read it. He wasn’t trying to be nosy. He just happened to glance at it as he was setting out Victor’s plate.

‘We should grab some dinner sometime, how about it?’ it read.

Yuuri saw only blackness.

His vision washed out and his mind felt light, airy, and full of blinding rage. Pain erupted down his spine.

Everything went starkly clear, and everything made sense. Sergei was trying to steal Victor away. He was stealing Victor. Victor. Yuuri needed Victor.

He stumbled to his feet, unable to remember when he’d even hit the floor. Phantom limbs tingled down his back, suggesting sensation where Yuuri knew there wasn’t any. Logically, there couldn’t be. But he felt soft brushes along his skin, his shirt shredded and falling off of him in tatters, and there were touches like smooth, damp growths sliding over his skin. It reminded him of a writhing mass of tongues, slick and muscular and somewhere between warm with body heat and cool with whatever lubricant was slicking over them.

Yuuri stumbled down the hall. Everything had taken on a curious grey tinge, fuzzy along the edges. There was only one point of color, of focus, only one thing Yuuri needed. He needed Victor to be his, he needed to know Victor belonged to him, that Victor belonged to no one else. He was gasping, clinging to consciousness as he tripped inside, barely managing the door.

He was wheezing. “Victor, he-elp,” he croaked, feeling a brief moment of clarity just from seeing Victor there in their bedroom, one of Yuuri’s t-shirts tight across his broad chest. Yuuri dropped to his knees. The black writhing behind him picked up in intensity, suddenly whipping into a frenzy now that the object of their fixation was in front of him.

“Yuuri!” Victor gasped. He dropped to his knees in front of Yuuri, his hands fluttering above Yuuri’s shoulders, hesitant to touch. Yuuri clutched his head. It felt like his brain was going to explode, a pressure building more and more with each moment until he thought he’d burst. “Yuuri, please, remember our love!”

The words sounded distant, like they were spoken through water or a thick fog. They were hard to focus on, hard to parse. Yuuri’s thoughts flowed like thick syrup. Love. Victor loved him. But didn’t he like Sergei?

The foreign voice in his mind chimed in. How do you know? What good did it do to remember when it could leave so easily? There's no physical proof.

Yuuri’s head rolled back. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, not quite his own. The words weren't his, even as he pushed his hair back from his face.

“That's not going to work this time,” he said. His voice was trembling from the void, distorted by thoughts that weren't his own, and yet they were. The thing inside him was hungry. The thing inside of him needed something. Destruction. Conclusive evidence. Something. And Yuuri himself needed proof.

“Yuuri, please,” Victor said. He dragged Yuuri into his arms, petting his hair frantically. Yuuri squirmed in his grip, fighting to get free. “Think of the times we’ve had together. Think of us together on the ice. Think of what's gotten us this far in the world,” Victor urged. Yuuri blinked at him. “What is it, Yuuri, come on, remember! How did we beat this last time?”

“Love?” Yuuri whispered, voice cracked and small, pausing his struggles.

“Yes, love,” Victor said, cradling Yuuri’s face in one hand. His other hand stroked down Yuuri’s arm.

“Love,” Yuuri repeated, and it clicked. He knew his proof. He knew what he needed. He stared deep into Victor’s eyes. “I need to feel your love,” Yuuri continued, pulling Victor closer. Victor’s mouth dropped open in a mix of confusion and surprise. “I need it inside me, Victor. I need it to fill me up and cover me, Victor, please, I need you.” He yanked Victor close, covering over those slightly parted lips with his own.

The sudden kiss was animalistic and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongue and crashing lips. Victor was shocked but clearly turned on, giving as good as he got as soon as he recovered enough to respond. Victor was breathless when Yuuri pulled back. He took in all of Yuuri’s body with wide eyes.

Yuuri keened quietly, but he couldn't complain. He had Victor’s full, undivided attention, at least for now. And Victor was staring hungrily at him, heated and suggestive in one, promising filthy things in the dilation of his pupils and the wicked curve of his slowly spreading smile.

“Yuuuuuri,” Victor groaned, wide-eyed and breathless. His hands slid up Yuuri’s sides and out, following the line of something. Yuuri’s breath hitched and nerves he didn't know existed twitched like live wires.

His whole body jerked, and he realized Victor had taken two of the tentacles into his hands, studying them with unmistakable desire. His touch was raging fire along them. They were sensitive, and Victor’s body heat against them made Yuuri want to moan and rut against him. An alien desperation filled him. God, he felt so empty right now, so cold, he needed to feel Victor against him, every inch he could reach.

He cried out pitifully. His whole body blazed. “Aaaah, Victor, I need you. Put your cock in me- aaah, fuck,” he groaned when Victor’s fingers slid down the length of the tentacles, feeling out the smooth black surface. It was overwhelming. It was a feeling somewhere between stroking his cock and Victor pounding hard and fast against his prostate, and Yuuri was squirming now, gasping as Victor felt them up.

Yuuri shoved Victor back onto the floor, gasping. “Fuck, lube, where is it?” Yuuri sputtered.

“Bedside table,” Victor gasped. Yuuri tried to stand and found his legs wobbling beneath him, shaky as a newborn fawn. Victor helped him to the bed, rubbing his hand over Yuuri’s back. Every brush of Victor’s fingers against the base of the knot of tentacles set Yuuri’s body twitching and left him moaning almost involuntarily. He yanked his pants off, stripping nude and falling onto the sheets.

He could see himself in the mirror from the bed. Victor had tilted it there a week ago and had fucked Yuuri against it, showering him with praise. Yuuri whimpered. He needed it. Victor loved him, it was true. But was his body enough for Victor?

He stared at himself, shaken by the sight. Normal enough, a little pale perhaps, except for his eyes, which had become black and void of any discernible pupil and sclera, and the writhing mass of black tentacles haloing his torso.

Yuuri growled under his breath. He would make sure of it. He would be the only man to satisfy Victor. Sergei could never give Victor enough. Victor fumbled out of his pants and dropped into the bed beside Yuuri. He bowed over him again. Yuuri felt the tentacles writhe around his body, whipped into a frenzy at Victor’s touch.

Victor was enthusiastic to say the least, and it made Yuuri feel desperately pleased. Victor’s heavy gaze was all he'd ever wanted. Victor’s lingering touch was the only thing he'd ever need. Victor kissed him and Yuuri groaned into his mouth, clamoring for more. He knew exactly what he needed right now.

Blind, he fumbled for the lube and scrambled to pour some onto his hand, slicking it over his fingers and pushing the index finger inside himself. It went easily enough. They'd been going at it like rabbits all week, spurred by Yuuri’s jealously. But this was the tipping point, and Yuuri’s body was open enough to take the first finger with minimal trouble. He slicked his fingers up along his insides. His head fell back and Victor’s lips trailed down his neck, sucking hard and fast at the juncture where throat met collarbone. Yuuri cried out.

He felt the stirring of strange limbs like extra arms. The tentacles. Conscious thought vacated his mind and all he knew was that he would be Victor’s, or he'd burn the world down trying.

Every touch felt like a new shock to his system, Victor’s lips on his skin, Victor’s fingers sliding over the tentacles. Yuuri flexed them and found them respond, sinuous as his tongue and just as easy to press against Victor’s body. He let them reach and wrap and coil, sliding gently over Victor’s arms, his torso, shuddering with the simple pleasure that came from the touch alone.

Victor let out a shaky gasp. “Yuuri,” he breathed. His cheeks were flushed and red. Yuuri moved them, and Victor let the tentacles tug his shirt off over his head and embrace him once more. Yuuri was struck by the sight.

Victor looked beautiful wrapped in the tentacles. His fair skin was offset beautifully with the dark, glossy lengths that bound his arms and embraced his abdomen, his legs, one creeping to loosely wrap around Victor’s cock. It was hard, weeping from the tip.

“Yuuri, Yuuri please,” Victor moaned. Yuuri slipped another finger inside himself. He let the tentacle around Victor’s cock begin to stroke him slowly, curling around it as tightly as he would with his hand. Two more tentacles slid up Victor’s torso, each one finding a nipple and beginning to rub against them, and Yuuri could feel them stiffen against the slick surface of the foreign limbs.

Others pulled Victor closer, bringing their bodies flush against one another. Yuuri tipped his hips just enough to allow a hand and a few tentacles between them.

Yuuri shoved another finger inside himself and straddled Victor, working the fingers in and out with grim determination. “Need you,” he moaned. “Victor…”

He reached for Victor’s cock, replacing the tentacle with his own fingers. He wanted Victor to feel good, to know that only Yuuri could ever satisfy him like this. It was slippery with whatever substance coated the tentacles.

‘Inside, inside, inside,’ the voice in his head urged him. Yuuri paused just long enough to study Victor, see the beautifully wrecked face he was making in the grip of Yuuri’s tentacles, the bands of black holding his wrists where they settled on Yuuri’s hips. He looked open and willing and hungry for everything and anything, and Yuuri had never loved him more.

He needed Victor the way people needed color and music. It wasn't that he'd die without, that he couldn't be away from Victor. It was more that the world felt more empty without Victor by his side, that Victor gave everything a completeness that Yuuri hadn't known he was missing until he'd seen it for himself.

He rose to his knees and sat himself on Victor’s cock, guiding it inside with the gentle touch of one of the tentacles. He needed the thick swell inside him, he needed the liquid feeling of Victor’s release spilling within him.

His head fell back and he gasped quietly to himself as he took in the length of Victor’s cock. Victor let out a breath gasp as Yuuri sank down. He slid his hand along one of the tentacles, and Yuuri gasped.

The tentacles slid over Victor’s body, touching, brushing against every sensitive part of Victor’s skin while Yuuri adjusted to the thickness. One tentacle slipped down Yuuri’s asscrack, slotting against it until it was flush with Victor’s cock. It worked its way south, rubbing sweetly against the cleft of Victor’s ass. Victor made a weak, strangled sound, and Yuuri loved it.

“In me,” Victor gasped, just as Yuuri bobbed on his cock. Yuuri settled onto the thickness, and he sent the tip of one tentacle to probe at Victor’s entrance. It was hot and fluttering, more sensitive even than when Yuuri pressed against him with the head of his cock. He pushed it in and Victor wailed, burying his gasping cries into Yuuri's chest.

But Yuuri needed more.

He rose up once more, pulling almost entirely off Victor’s cock before dropping back down, riding him hard and fast. At the same time, he began to work the tentacle deeper inside of Victor’s body, fucking him even as he rode. The constriction around him was delicious, Victor’s body so sweet and tight around him. Yuuri was nearly incoherent at the rushing sensations.

Victor was clutching at him, sobbing out his name, flushed and pretty and moaning like Yuuri was the only thing in his head. The demon loved it, loved feeling claimed like this and claiming in return.

A little voice in Yuuri’s ear whispered for him to press a second tentacle in beside the first and so Yuuri did. He lined a second one up, the tip pressed against the entrance, primed to press deep within like the first. Victor made a noise like a dying man. His fingers clenched around Yuuri’s hips, holding Yuuri still.

“Yes, yes, Yuuri, yes, put it in,” Victor moaned. Yuuri quieted him with kisses, sliding almost entirely off Victor’s cock before letting it fill him again, pushing inside of him, brushing against his prostate so sweetly he could have screamed. As it was, he sputtered for air, and gently the tentacle began to push in beside the one already buried deep in Victor’s ass.

Yuuri could ride Victor hard, stuff him full of tentacles, and fuck him like that until they were both wholly satisfied. The heavy slide of cock within him wasn't enough. He maintained a steady rhythm, jolting his hips up and slamming them back down hard enough he saw stars, and he began to work the tentacles, thrusting one hard and deep inside and holding it there, the other beginning to piston in and out beside it.

Yuuri could feel them moving inside Victor’s body when he rested his palms on Victor’s abdomen. He could see the stirrings of the tentacles pushing around each other so deep inside his lover. Victor’s hand wrapped around Yuuri’s cock and he almost screamed. It was overwhelming, the feeling of being stroked off, of being fucked, of fucking, all at once.

Yuuri shot off, unable to hold himself back. He came hard, groaning deep and wordless, unable to form a single thought in his head beside the tight coils of pleasure. He painted Victor’s chest white and didn't stop moving, didn't stop riding Victor’s cock, didn't stop thrusting the pair of tentacles in tandem deep into Victor’s ass, fucking him from both sides as Victor wailed.

Yuuri rode Victor through his orgasm, so desperately pleased to feel the flood of Victor’s seed rushing inside his body, filling him up. When it was done, when his stomach felt so heavy with semen he could dream of being impregnated by it, he went limp against Victor’s chest.

More. He wanted more. It wasn't enough. He was Victor’s but was Victor truly his?

“Yuuri, Yuuri, I love you,” Victor cooed, pressing fluttering kisses to Yuuri’s cheeks, unaware of the growing hunger in Yuuri’s eyes. More.

Yuuri moved the tentacles again inside Victor, not quite pulling them out but rather giving them an aborted thrust. Victor gave a soft, sweet cry from oversensitivity.

“Can I?” Yuuri asked. He stroked his soft cock, biting his lip at the sensation of too much, far too much, but feeling Victor’s body shudder around the tentacles was doing wonders for his libido. “Victor, I want to fuck you,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuuri,” Victor moaned. He spread his legs a little wider. “Leave one in.”

Yuuri was puzzled until his saw the indecent slide of his tentacles fucking up into Victor’s body, twisting around each other and pressing inside. Yuuri gave one of them a little thrust and Victor moaned, his body shuddering. He was flushed to his chest and trembling.

Yuuri was getting hard again.

He pulled one out and Victor’s breath shuddered. Yuuri replaced it with his cock, pushing in beside the first, and Victor threw back his head, white knuckled and clutching at Yuuri’s hips.

Yuuri fucked him with his cock and the tentacle, jerking Victor back to hardness and sliding more of the tentacles over every sensitive part of Victor's body that Yuuri knew, driving him crazy. He could feel the slow drip of Victor’s come running down his thighs.

When Yuuri came inside, he continued to pound the tentacle against Victor’s prostate, whimpering at the feeling of it dragging against his cock, but not pulling out. Victor choked and came, laying back exhausted. “I love you,” Victor panted. “I love you, I love you, Yuuri, my love, come back to me.”

Something seemed to snap when Victor spread his legs a little further apart. Yuuri pulled out, watching the slow leak of white run out of Victor’s body, and a shuddering feeling rocked his body.

His control of the tentacles slipped. They coiled around his body. The feeling in them became insubstantial, phantom limbs beyond his control. They were receding, drawing back into his skin, the ends evaporating like dark mist.

Clarity came over him in slow waves. “Victor,” he said hoarsely. Victor blinked, his eyes a little dazed and so bright and blue and beautiful. He held Yuuri close.

And then Yuuri realized exactly what he'd just done.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Yuuri sputtered, clutching his head. Victor grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close.

“Yuuri, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Victor soothed, breathing heavily. There were still clouds of lust hazing his eyes, a slightly dazed sort of expression of fucked-out bliss. His hands were running over Yuuri’s skin, smoothing down his arms and sides soothingly. “Deep breaths, nice and slow.”

Yuuri realized he was close to hyperventilating. He let his head fall into Victor’s shoulder and forced himself to slow his breath. If Victor’s gentle touch was any suggestion, it seemed the tentacles were long gone. There was no longer a sensation of phantom limbs at the edge of his control, a strange feeling of sensitive growths that were free to kiss and touch Victor’s skin the way his fingers and lips did. Victor’s hands over his back slid over smooth muscle. The knot of tentacles was gone.

Yuuri bowed his head. “It happened again?” he murmured. He clutched at his temples. Everything had a hazy, indistinct quality to it.

Victor let out a slight, contented groan. “Aaahhh, Yuuri, I think it did.”

“You should be angry,” Yuuri said, expression blank and his tone flat. “Why? Why aren’t you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry, my love?” Victor murmured. His hands had finished their slow progression down Yuuri’s spine, each one grabbing a handful of Yuuri’s ass and rolling it in his fingers.

“I- I got jealous again!” Yuuri sputtered. “I. Oh god, I did horrible things with tentacles and I-” Yuuri squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I made this weird Victor, I can’t believe that I- Ah, well I… Oh damn, how could I get possessed again?”

“They felt so good,” Victor assured him. A dreamy little look crossed his face. “Oh Yuuri, I almost didn’t think they’d ever come back. If this happens every time you get jealous, you’re going to tempt me to make you jealous more often.”

Yuuri blinked a few times. “... What?” Victor looked exhausted but pleased. He smiled slowly. “Don’t you think it’s.... weird?” Yuuri asked hesitantly.

“Well,” Victor mused. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “After the festival, I admit, I started to have some strange thoughts. And I got curious and looked into some… ahh… interesting pornographic materials. And along the way, I realized that it was a little exciting. But not because I wanted to make love with tentacles. It was because I wanted to make love with your tentacles, Yuuri.”

“What?” Yuuri whispered. “You mean…?”

“Yuuri, my beloved, my darling, my gold, let me say it clearly: I love you. And I love your tentacles. And if they’re a permanent thing, well… I love every part of you, Yuuri.” Victor’s eyes crinkled with the smile.

“This is why you’ve been distracted every time the tentacles come up,” Yuuri realized.

Victor flushed cutely. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said defensively. “I’ve just been acting normal.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. And then he started to laugh. “Victor, have you been trying to make me jealous this whole time?”

“Of course not!” Victor said. “That’s- that’s ridiculous. I would never betray your trust like that or try to manipulate you or-”

“Victor,” Yuuri said, grabbing Victor by the face and kissing him on the lips. “Shut up.”

“I don’t actually like talking to Sergei all the time,” Victor admitted. “He talks about ballet too much and not nearly enough about his dog. And you’re the only one for me, Yuuri. You’re the only one I’ll ever want or need, my love and my life. No one could ever compare to you.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “I know. And you’re the only one for me.”

They were both fools, but they were fools for each other.

* * *

They were forced to take the next day off to recuperate, but Yuuri wasn't so upset the next time he saw Sergei approach Victor. And if Sergei and Yuuri found a surprising amount of common ground discussing ballet, well…

They both knew Victor could get jealous just as easily as Yuuri could.


End file.
